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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24964201">Tut mir nicht Leid</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menfinske/pseuds/Menfinske'>Menfinske</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rammstein</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>America tour, Angst, Feeling B - Freeform, Fights, First Kiss, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:47:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,511</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24964201</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menfinske/pseuds/Menfinske</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Schneider gets into a fight with his bandmates in Feeling B. <br/>The consequence? He gets left behind for over a full day before they come pick him up again. If only the fight would've been forgotten meanwhile</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Paul Landers/Christoph Schneider | Doom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Rammstein - Flashback - June prompt</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tut mir nicht Leid</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Schneider is miserable. He’s angry, he’s disappointed and he’s annoyed. Angry and disappointed at his so-called bandmates who’d been acting like damned retards ever since they got to the US and for leaving him here and annoyed with himself that he’s now stuck in a hotel in some middle-of-nowhere town. He doesn’t even know what to do now. Should he try and find transportation to the next city they were headed to? Should he stay here and hope his bandmates are coming back to collect him?</p>
<p>He wouldn’t even know where to begin finding transportation to the next city. His English is basic at best and the receptionists here aren’t the most helpful. Or friendly. They begrudgingly allowed him to use his hands and feet to book the room, giving him annoyed looks while he was trying to emphasize he would like to book one day at a time. After all, he has no idea how long to stay here.</p>
<p>He’s bored to death besides. He’s got his bag with him, with the book he was reading. It’d kept him occupied for an hour or so, before his annoyance began to grow again. He couldn’t focus on the text while his mind was busy thinking about how disgraceful it was that he’d actually been abandoned here. And what for? For wanting to be a serious band. Mph, they should be grateful at least one person was taking it serious, not punishing him for it. Fucking hell.</p>
<p>Not that it matters. Here he is. Stuck and alone, having to decide how to proceed from here. Does he try and figure out how to get to the next time on his own? Surely that’s a good idea. Just because he knows how to doesn’t mean he immediately needs to do it. It’s probably best to work that out as soon as he can but remain in the hotel to see if his bandmates would be returning to pick him up.</p>
<p>Yes. That would be the best course of action. Perhaps he can also grab a movie or a magazine or something from a store. Keep himself occupied while he waits and wonders. Grabbing his bag, Schneider slings it onto his back before walking out the door, planning to head into whatever center this town might have to see if there’s more helpful people there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s late in the afternoon the following day. Schneider still hasn’t heard or seen anything of his bandmates. His anger has morphed into frustration at the world of large. Why had they even gone on tour in the US if nobody was taking it serious? Why hadn’t he opted to stay back home, where he might actually do something useful? Why hadn’t he practiced his English, so he didn’t have such a limited selection of movies to choose from at the store yesterday, only a small percentage having German subtitles available.</p>
<p>He had paged Flake earlier this afternoon, hoping that the keyboardist would be the most reasonable. It only contained the name of the hotel, avoiding the possibility that they wouldn’t be able to find him. If Paul is still angry, he would have made it into an excuse. And Aljosha wouldn’t be unlikely to use it as an excuse regardless, since the fight had for the largest part between them. Aljosha who only wanted to drink and do drugs.</p>
<p>Schneider takes a deep breath. He might as well take a shower while he’s here and waiting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It takes until late in the evening, close to the night actually, when Schneider hears a knock on his door. Opening it up, he comes face to face with-</p>
<p>“Paul?” Schneider questions. He must admit he had expected Flake if only one was coming to pick him up. Not Paul.</p>
<p>“Move. We’re sharing the room,” Paul commands. Schneider huffs and furrows his brows. It figures that he’d be just as annoying and unapologetic now. After all, Schneider had been the one left steaming in his frustration, not Paul.</p>
<p>“Where’s Flake and Aljosha?” Schneider questions, tossing himself back on the bed. Paul can share the room, but he best take the damned couch. No way Schneider is giving up the bed to the room he’s paying for.</p>
<p>“Few doors down the hall,” Paul responds coolly. Paul has his back toward Schneider, standing at the couch and rummaging through his bag. When he rises and turns around, there’s a pack of cigarettes in his hands. “Want one?”</p>
<p>“Sure,” Schneider responds after a moment of hesitation. Paul tosses the pack to him before he leans back on the couch, lighting up his own cigarette. Schneider tosses the pack back in exchange for the lighter.</p>
<p>“I wasn’t sure you’d return to pick me up.” Schneider’s admittance comes after several quiet moments.</p>
<p>“I wasn’t sure we would. You were a real shit yesterday,” Paul responds. “We need a drummer though. We’re not as unprofessional as you make us out to be.”</p>
<p>“Shut up, Paul,” Schneider narrows his eyes. He doesn’t feel like rekindling the fight. He’s still angry. He’s still annoyed they’d actually left him by the side of the road. It would take very little to get to a full-blown fight again. Paul arches up a brow and for a moment Schneider fully expects him to continue. After taking another drag from his cigarette, however, Paul breathes out and he visibly deflates.</p>
<p>“You missed the crocodiles,” he says instead. Schneider repeats the sentence in his head. Surely he’d misheard. He’s unable to come up with a logical sentence it might have been, however.</p>
<p>“Crocodiles?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, crocodiles. Or alligators. I don’t know, whichever occur around here,” Paul waves it off as if it’s unimportant. “It’s a shame you weren’t there. You know Flake isn’t too fond of animals aside from cats and Aljosha was too high to appreciate them. If you’d been there I’d at least not have been alone in being fascinated.” Schneider has to resist the huff that threatens to rise in him at the notion that Paul hadn’t been entertained enough. As if Paul is the one left by himself with practically no entertainment to speak of.</p>
<p>“How’d you even come about them?”</p>
<p>“Really quite randomly,” Paul shrugs, a grin on his face. “We were just driving when we came upon water. We drove next to it for quite a while, unable to find a way over. Eventually Flake proposed we simply stop by the side of the road, pointing out that we needed to pick you up to be able to play the rest of the shows and we might as well ask someone how to cross over while we were already delayed anyway. So we did. We put the bus by the side of the road and while Aljosha stayed inside, I dragged Flake out to have a smoke and a drink in the grass. I think we both nearly got a heart attack when we spotted a crocodile.”</p>
<p>“Was it coming at you?”</p>
<p>“Nope,” Paul beams. “It was just chilling. Flake went inside the bus quickly though. I stayed to watch it. It didn’t do much- hell, it didn’t do anything. But it was fun. Even Aljosha came outside to look once he’d deciphered Flake’s panic.” Paul is chuckling now and Schneider can’t help but feel his mouth curl up. He can easily imagine Paul’s fascination and Flake’s cynical panicking, even Aljosha’s temporary interest in a creature they normally never saw.</p>
<p>“Did you toss it food?” Schneider wonders. It probably would’ve been a sight to see it eat. Paul laughs.</p>
<p>“Do you really think Flake wasn’t guarding our food to ensure exactly that wouldn’t happen?” Paul points out. “ ‘What if a little food just makes him more hungry?’ No, I didn’t feed it. I did see it dive and swim though. After I’d spent a while sitting and watching it, it began to move. Missed the water, I suppose. It was gone soon after and I didn’t see it again.”</p>
<p>“Would you have fed it if Flake hadn’t been there?” Schneider wonders. Paul is reckless for sure, but even he might have some more survival instinct than to get a large predator near him after awakening its hunger.</p>
<p>“I would’ve climbed on the bus, but sure,” Paul nods eagerly. “What, wouldn’t you? It would’ve looked mighty, I’m sure.” Paul’s smile is large and beaming as he turns to look at Schneider.</p>
<p>“I’m not sure I would have,” Schneider admits. It indeed would have looked cool, but he has no idea how quickly a crocodile would’ve smelt the food. Maybe it would’ve been at the door before he’d even stepped out of the bus? That sounds like a terrible situation.</p>
<p>“Oh, because you’d use your brain, would you?” Paul laughs. He stands up, putting his hands on his sides in his power-stance and his chin to the side. “I am Christoph Schneider and I ALWAYS think about what I do, just so I don’t end up with the same cause of death as my bandmate. Death by crocodile jaws,” Paul mocks.</p>
<p>“Hey, at least you’ve got a bad-ass cause of death,” Schneider grins in response, though he aims the lighter at Paul’s chest before throwing it. “Although- I’m not so sure. The cause of death may as well be lit on fire by bandmembers after he angered a crocodile and trapped them in a bus.”</p>
<p>“Oh, fire wouldn’t be the way to go then. The bus might catch on fire and then you’d have no protection at all.”</p>
<p>“Fair point,” Schneider concedes. “And I suppose the scent of toasted flesh might attract even more of them. Perhaps blood would too? So no stabbing then. We’ll strangle you to death.”</p>
<p>“Sounds good. Can you use a guitar string? Then I can die nice and poetically.”</p>
<p>“If we murder you, it’s unlikely we’ll take your preferences into account,” Schneider points out. Paul narrows his eyes and approaches Schneider, finger held out threateningly.</p>
<p>“Promise me or next time I won’t convince people to come pick you back up.”</p>
<p>“Nice try. That was Flake,” Schneider rolls his eyes, taking Paul’s finger in his hand and pointing it a different way. Schneider watches in wonderment as Paul’s eyes widen slightly and he reddens.</p>
<p>“Right. But I’ll convince him differently,” Paul tries. Schneider’s eyes are already narrowed.</p>
<p>“Paul? Were you actually the one who wanted to come pick me up?” Paul’s eyes dodge Schneider’s for a moment before he sighs and shrugs, turning around to sit down next to Schneider on the bed.</p>
<p>“Flake did too. But yes, I was the one who convinced Aljosha to turn around. He was properly pissed with you. It took a while, longer than Flake had the energy for.”</p>
<p>“I thought you were angry with me too.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I was,” Paul nods, glaring at Schneider as if to drive the point home. “I was furious. You realize you’re not the only one who wants to make music. We all chose to be musicians. Just because precious glory-boy Schneider grew up a different way and feels the pressure a different way doesn’t mean we don’t. Why do you think we even came here?”</p>
<p>“To be honest, I’ve been wondering the same,” Schneider feels the anger beginning to bubble up inside of him again. “Ever since we got to this damned continent Aljosha has been drinking and drugging nonstop, Flake has been complaining far too much to get anything done and you’re just interested in making a whole new continent find you annoying.”</p>
<p>“That’s not what I’ve been doing,” Paul’s voice sounds very tight and Schneider just knows this is going to end up in a fight again. “We came here to play music. To do concerts. And we do. So fuck you for feeling like you’re better than us. What did you even have in mind? Record a new album? Mh? How would you even propose that, replace one of the beds in the bus with your drumkit? Try and pretend the road-noise is part of it?”</p>
<p>“I expected us to portray ourselves like professionals at least. Not driving around like goalless men, hoping someone will approach us to see if we’d do a concert. To go to venues instead, suggest we play there. Find some fellow musicians who might be interested in having us as their opener or shit. And at least get inspiration for a new album. I don’t even want to be in this fucking band anymore, man. All we ever do is repeat the same damned songs every time. Why? Because nobody in this fucking band appears interested in producing anything anymore.”</p>
<p>“You’ve been stuck here for the last day and a half. How many shows have you talked the locals into letting  us play, huh? Instead of fucking pointing blame to everyone and everything, look at yourself. You’re such an egotistical bastard,” Paul fumes, elbowing Schneider’s side hard.</p>
<p>“At least I have been trying to make contact,” Schneider screams back, ignoring the pain spreading from the point of contact. “At least I have been practicing my drums when I can. Your guitar is so nice and compact. You could easily play whenever you want. And yet I never see you play. I may be a bastard, but you’re a lazy little shit.” Schneider predicts the fist swinging towards him and he easily gets up to avoid it, turning around and pushing Paul down on the bed instead, grabbing his wrists and pinning them down to the bed. Paul may be a hothead, fortunately he at least doesn’t have the size to back him up.</p>
<p>“How would I even make contact?” Paul screams, vehemently twisting and turning in an attempt to get loose. Schneider climbs on top of him to limit it, feeling Paul’s wrists beginning to win some leverage due to avoiding his knees. “I don’t even fucking know English. Aljosha had to book our rooms because Flake and I didn’t even know that basic English. You’re putting everything on us, while fucking you are the only one who can make some form of conversation here.”</p>
<p>“Oh, so that’s your excuse?” Schneider asks in disbelief. “Your excuse is that ‘Boohoo, I was too lazy to learn English before I needed it’. I practiced it at home. Just like you fucking should have done. And that’s still no excuse for you being so fucking goddamned lazy to get started on music for the new album.”</p>
<p>“Fuck you,” Paul scream, still trying to wiggle free. Schneider merely pins him down further. Paul glares at him before staying still. “We never should have come back for you. Who would ever expect an egotistical bastard to be grateful anyway.”</p>
<p>“Then why did you come back, huh? I could’ve made my way to the next show. I’m at least not an incapable bastard.”</p>
<p>“Because believe it or not, seeing as you’re the most fucking goddamn arrogant fucker I know, I do occasionally like your company. Did anyway. You’ve gotten way worse since getting to the US. Now let go of me. I’ll fucking get out of your room. Send Flake here instead.”</p>
<p>“Why didn’t you just send Flake in here in the first place. Fucking hothead,” Schneider spits, letting go of Paul and laying down on the bed instead. Paul rises to a standing position, his face in disbelief.</p>
<p>“Because I’m the one who enjoys your company. Not Flake. He’s just too calm to rise to your fucking baits.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Fucking go ruin someone else’s day with your glorious company then. Good riddance it’s Aljosha too. You can be lazy together. Now fuck off,” Schneider turns around, not even wanting to see Paul’s infuriating face anymore. The sound of footsteps creating distance between them never comes. Instead, Paul remains in place, standing at the side of the bed. After a few tense moments, Schneider glances at him, wanting to scream at him to get out already.</p>
<p>Paul’s stance him stops him in his tracks though. Paul is still half-facing him and there’s an unfamiliar expression on his face. Schneider really doesn’t know how to read it. It doesn’t really look like anger anymore. Disbelief would be the closest Schneider could describe it, but even that doesn’t seem to cut it. In addition, Paul’s hands are balled into fists while his feet are already pointing to the door. Wanting to fight and to leave, seemingly.</p>
<p>“You’re a real heartless bastard, you know that?” Paul finally speaks, several quiet minutes later.</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you expect me to spare your fucking feelings after blaming me for wanting to get shit done? After leaving me by the side of the road in a city I don’t fucking know and a country where I barely speak any of the language?” Schneider sneers.</p>
<p>“I expected you to fucking have gathered some sense since we left you. I missed you, you know? Clearly I wasn’t missed,” Paul huffs, beginning to turn around. And then he turns back. “Actually, you know what. I’m not leaving. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I love spending time with you. Don’t ask me why, everyone knows you’ve got the personality of a particularly dense brick. But for some reason I do like spending time with you. And now I find out all I am to you is a man with a guitar? Who can’t have a life outside of music? Who must devote all seconds playing guitar, because else surely I must be lazy? No. Fuck you. You can be the one to leave then.”</p>
<p>“Hell no,” Schneider exclaims. “I booked and paid for the room. If my ambition is so infuriating to you, you can get your ass out of here.”</p>
<p>“Fine. I’ll stay then.”</p>
<p>“The hell you will.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I will,” Paul crosses his arms. “Apparently you refuse to leave because you paid and booked. And I just told you I can’t book another room. Aljosha is surely too wasted by now to do it and we can’t spend the night with three people in this room. So no, I’m not leaving.”</p>
<p>“Fine. Suffer through my presence then, I don’t fucking care. Unlike you, I can make a booking. I can leave whenever I want.”</p>
<p>“So you choose to stay with me,” Paul huffs. “Sure. Sounds plausible. Lazy, annoying, good for nothing. But let’s not use the fact that wonderboy Schneider can actually get something done here to help toward getting rid of me and my horrible burden of a personality.”</p>
<p>“How do you even know I find you a burden? Do you think I stay in this fucking band for Aljosha? For Flake even? Aljosha is happy as long as he’s out of this world. He’s never going to take us anywhere. And as much as we need Flake, neither is he. Guitar and drum. That’s the backbone. I could’ve left the band. I’m sure there’s opportunities for a drummer.”</p>
<p>“You do it because you want to chase your own ambition. Selfish reasons. Don’t pretend it’s for any of us.”</p>
<p>“It’s not for any of you,” Schneider agrees. “But I could go find a different band. I haven’t. So stop pretending I can’t live or breathe in the same air as you.” Schneider is about to turn around and ignore Paul for the rest of the evening when Paul surprises him by getting on the bed and pinning Schneider down now. At least he’s careless, not blocking his legs. If needed, Schneider can bring his knee up.</p>
<p>“Really? Tell me then. Look me in the eyes and tell me the truth. Tell me you can stand my presence.”</p>
<p>“What? Oh fuck off, Paul. Of course I can stand your presence. You can be a cool guy when you take a moment not be a little fucker,” Schneider huffs. Paul’s eyes narrow and before Schneider can decide if he needs to bring his knee up because Paul might just punch him, Paul leans down. Surprising Schneider thoroughly, he brushes his lips against Schneider’s.</p>
<p>Schneider’s arms are still pinned down, so he can’t push Paul off of him. He could knee him, which would surely cause Paul to retract all the same but- Schneider is honestly too surprised to do so. What the actual fuck is Paul kissing him for.</p>
<p>It doesn’t last long. After a mere two seconds, Paul rises back up. He looks at Schneider intently, then lets go of Schneider’s wrists.</p>
<p>“That’s why I came back for you. Because infuriating as you are, you fucking matter to me. Now I’m going out. I haven’t eaten yet. Fucking put my bag outside if you want to continue this fucking fight that’s been going on circles for days now. Fucking put my bag outside if you’re disgusted by me. But if I come back and my bag isn’t outside, you’d better fucking not start up this fight anymore. One of us will leave the band before we’re back in Germany otherwise.”</p>
<p>With that, Paul does indeed leave. Leaving Schneider confused on the bed. Wondering what had just happened.</p>
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